you are like ******,
the devils drug.
one hit and i crave you.
i crave that feeling of euphoria.
you make me feel happy, good, mellow.
but i grow accustomed to you,
and i crave more.
more interaction, more contact.
i need more of you to give me that high.
but my body aches, i cant sleep,
and i get waves of nausea
when i cannot have you.
i go insane for another hit.
“just one more.”
but one turns into two,
which becomes three,
and they keep adding up.
i cant stop wanting you.
i am addicted to you.
you are ******.

In school, they teach you math and science, but they don't teach you about boys who pick apart your heart like flower petals, singing,
"I love her not, I love her not, I love her not."
My teachers did not show me how to pick myself up off the ground when he leaves. They did not teach me how to delete your text messages, burn your letters, and tear apart your pictures.
When I was in school, they did not teach me that smiles are fragile, and that once they're broken, they take years to repair.
I was not taught about boys like you, who are gentle with scarred skin. I was not warned of boys like you, who cower in heaps on their bed when they're lonely.
Nor did my mother tell me how to be careful with my mind full of secrets.
Never in school did they tell me that bed sheets can get lonely when he's not there to fill the space.